He's really not used to Steve taking a second to stop and think, so this hesitation, tiny as it is, is unnerving.
Steve doesn't hesitate. Steve doesn't pause. Steve rolls over all barriers and obstacles like a tank, barely acknowledging them at all. Steve burns out the floor with words that hit Danny's stomach like acid. Steve grabs them both and shoves them off a safe bridge into a churning mass of rocks and river.
Danny's not used to the idea that Steve might ever not be absolutely, one hundred percent sure, and his eyes are open when Steve offers light words that ring dense as lead. They're still open when Steve works that final button free, and there's a frown beginning a slow pull between them when Steve avoids looking at his face for a second, watches his thumb smoothing carefully over Danny's skin, instead.
Making Danny not sure which is more concerning: the fact that Steve isn't looking at him right away, or the thumb that's the only part of Steve's hand moving across his skin, like Steve thinks he might bolt, or like Steve thinks he needs soothing. Or, maybe, that Steve needs to be soothed, dropping terrible attempts at casual against Danny's mouth and then turning away for a second that stretches too long, tugs Danny's brow into a deeper line by the time Steve looks back up again.
It shouldn't be a forbidden topic. Right? Especially now, after what he just said outside, after what Steve agreed to. After what Cath assumed, even if it was more a joke than an actual label. These nebulous fantasies and guilty, fevered imaginings aren't going to cut it forever, and he just wants to know, okay, there's no harm in knowing, and that little flutter of trepidation can just swan right off out the door, thanks. "Yeah, I think it's fair to say I couldn't even begin to make an educated guess about that. I'm pretty new to this whole thing."
How can he know what he wants when he really has no idea what's even on the table, what it's like, how freaky it might feel or how natural it might surprise him as being? He doesn't know. It's re-learning the wheel, and that takes a certain degree of, what. Experimentation, right?
He's already established he trusts Steve with his life. Is any of this really harder than that?
His hands slide from Steve's hair to his shoulders, one traveling up and down his bicep. Slow down. Breathe. Relax. "But you're not."
It's not a question, because it's obvious. Even though they haven't talked about it, and he hasn't asked. It's private, right up until it starts being something that can help or hurt them, and Danny's pretty sure it just reached that point, out of nowhere, with the sounds of the movie playing unheard and ignored in the background.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2013-05-20 03:10 pm (UTC)Steve doesn't hesitate. Steve doesn't pause. Steve rolls over all barriers and obstacles like a tank, barely acknowledging them at all. Steve burns out the floor with words that hit Danny's stomach like acid. Steve grabs them both and shoves them off a safe bridge into a churning mass of rocks and river.
Danny's not used to the idea that Steve might ever not be absolutely, one hundred percent sure, and his eyes are open when Steve offers light words that ring dense as lead. They're still open when Steve works that final button free, and there's a frown beginning a slow pull between them when Steve avoids looking at his face for a second, watches his thumb smoothing carefully over Danny's skin, instead.
Making Danny not sure which is more concerning: the fact that Steve isn't looking at him right away, or the thumb that's the only part of Steve's hand moving across his skin, like Steve thinks he might bolt, or like Steve thinks he needs soothing. Or, maybe, that Steve needs to be soothed, dropping terrible attempts at casual against Danny's mouth and then turning away for a second that stretches too long, tugs Danny's brow into a deeper line by the time Steve looks back up again.
It shouldn't be a forbidden topic. Right? Especially now, after what he just said outside, after what Steve agreed to. After what Cath assumed, even if it was more a joke than an actual label. These nebulous fantasies and guilty, fevered imaginings aren't going to cut it forever, and he just wants to know, okay, there's no harm in knowing, and that little flutter of trepidation can just swan right off out the door, thanks. "Yeah, I think it's fair to say I couldn't even begin to make an educated guess about that. I'm pretty new to this whole thing."
How can he know what he wants when he really has no idea what's even on the table, what it's like, how freaky it might feel or how natural it might surprise him as being? He doesn't know. It's re-learning the wheel, and that takes a certain degree of, what. Experimentation, right?
He's already established he trusts Steve with his life. Is any of this really harder than that?
His hands slide from Steve's hair to his shoulders, one traveling up and down his bicep. Slow down. Breathe. Relax. "But you're not."
It's not a question, because it's obvious. Even though they haven't talked about it, and he hasn't asked. It's private, right up until it starts being something that can help or hurt them, and Danny's pretty sure it just reached that point, out of nowhere, with the sounds of the movie playing unheard and ignored in the background.